As Seen By
by Spinning Furret
Summary: Or, a Collection of Oneshots. To be filled up. No slash. Chapter Nine: the Journal of Severus Snape III. Severus Snape, dungeon bat of the dungeons, respites on the miseries of his December, January, shoe-shopping, and speaking to certain persons of which I shall not name. Humor!
1. Snape is Best Against Toads

**As Seen By...**

_**Snape is Best Against Toads  
**_

Snape did not know a person he hated more: Potter or Toadbridge. He referred to Dolores Umbridge as Toadbridge and despite his best Occlumency, Severus just knew he would slip up. He needed a way to get rid of Umbridge that could not be traced to him in anyway, and might get Gryffindor a lot of missing points.

The idea struck Severus like a bolt of lightning. Students! Gryffindors! Hufflepuffs! Ravenclaws! Slytherins! And finally, Inter-House Spellwork Cooperation! The latest half-baked plan from Yours Truly, Severus Snape!

Scratch the last part. Ah, here they came now, a class of Gryffindors and Slytherins... particularly fifth years. Wonderful. Time to put the not-thought-thoroughly-through plan to work.

Snape billowed into the room as menacingly as ever, whipping out his wand and locking the door, setting up privacy charms, a few weak wards, and various spells. Umbridge couldn't get in.

"Today will be a special lesson on the Extermination and Elimination of Toads Through the Co-operation and Temporary Truces Between the Houses of Hogwarts by Utilizing Inter-House Spellwork Co-operation. All Houses of Hogwarts are officially in a Truce. All persons who successfully utilize these spells against Pink Toads will earn five points for their House, and this includes Gryffindor and Hufflepuff." Snape said.

"In addition, each student will be using these fanatically loyal and insane house-elves, by the name of Dobby, Tipsy, Nutsy, Notsy, and Globby to use Potions on the drinks of Pink Toads everywhere." Snape smirked and all the students were shell-shocked.

"All students are warned that Pink Toads have common traits such as Ministration Nonsense, Fanatic Fudginess, Decree Declarations, and the ever-present Pinkish Color. Finally, all students are instructed to refer to Pink Toads by their proper scientific name, Croakores Toadbridge. Dismissed!" Snape said and waited for the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff class, of which he told the same.

Finally, he entered the Great Hall, smirking a smirk that would send Dumbledore running to his Office, Voldemort out of his noseless body and Fudge resigning to hide in a broom closet. Umbridge was, as usual, unafflicted by it all, though a shudder passed down her when she saw Snape's smirk.

"Severus, why are you smirking so distinctively?" She asked in her usual honeyed voice.

"You shall soon see, Madamnit Toadbridge."

"What did you say to me, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts?"

"No-thing."

Umbridge eyed him suspiciously. However, a student (Mr. Buddock, Ravenclaw) sent a Hair-Raising Hex at Toadbridge.

"Five points to Ravenclaw for an excellent Hair-Raising Hex." Snape sneered out while Umbridge screamed.

Just then, a Hufflepuff decided to send a Toenail-Growth Hex at Toadbridge. "Five points to Hufflepuff for a wonderful amount of toenails grown."

Potter smirked evilly. Snape felt a shiver go down his spine.

Suddenly, a Jelly-Legs Jinx, Hair-Removing Hex, Transfiguration of Toadbridge's Hat into a Toad, Dancing-Legs Jinx, and Jelly-Brain Jinx hit Umbridge, who screamed and then started yelling about musical chairs.

"Twenty-five points to Gryffindor for five astoundingly amazing jinxes, hexes, and Transfiguration." It pained Snape a small amount to say it, but, anything to get Toadbridge out of the school.

McGonagall looked at him incredulously. All the students were laughing. "I held a special lesson today on the Extermination and Elimination of Toads Through the Co-operation and Temporary Truces Between the Houses of Hogwarts by Utilizing Inter-House Spellwork Co-operation. It's working."

McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and several other teachers smirked and everyone was awarding points to every House to shoot a successful Charm, Jinx, Hex, non-dangerous Curse, and Transfiguration at Umbridge, who was currently suffering the after-effects of a special Charm of Luna's.

"Der, de Minista fuh Magic Corny Oldald Chocolate ter vizit terday fer special visit on der Starcrossed, Knockkneed, Rainbow-Colored Whatchawhosit." Umbridge blubbered and Luna smiled innocently. All the students shuddered. Luna Lovegood was not a person to mess with. Especially when you insult her father and don't appropriately apologize for it.

"Tie, black Musical Chairs der bla bla black bleep blubber blip bloop blop-blop-blop!" Umbridge continued to blather nonsensically.

Snape shrugged 'What the Heck?' and started pouring Potions down Umbridge's mouth. Everybody looked on in shock. Umbridge was, however, regaining her senses. And she saw all the students shooting spells at her and Snape pouring Potions down her throat. Umbridge batted the hand away and jumped on the table.

"YOU ARE ALL EXPELLED! YOU ALL ARE FIRED! HOGWARTS IS SHUTTING DOWN! SOMEONE GET AN EXORCIST IN HERE! PEEVES! YOU WILL DIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!" Umbridge shrieked, clearly falling from sanity and losing it.

All the students started laughing. So did the teachers. However, just then the Minister walked in. "Dolores?"

"YOU'RE EXPELLED!" Umbridge shrieked before seeing it was her boss, her beloved Fudgey-Wudgey. "Just kidding, of course, Corny, I mean, Cornelius, Minister Chocolate, I mean Fudgey-Wudgey, I mean Fudge, you're not expelled, you're not a student, of course, you're old, not kidding, really not!"

All the students were laughing even harder. Some were banging the table, others were rolling on the ground, and several had tears running down their eyes from the hilarity.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Croakores Toadbridge, may I recommend you remove yourself from the school you just shut down after screaming that all students are expelled, all teachers are fired, and that an exorcist needs to get in here?"

Umbridge started to splutter. "What's the meaning of this?" Fudge sputtered out, clearly surprised.

"Dolores here said you were visiting about Starcrossed, Knockkneed, Rainbow-Colored Whatchawhosits. I suggest you do that."

Fudge continued to splutter while Umbridge got a glint of insanity in her eyes. Her eyes lost focused and she started to blubber again. The combination of mayhem, spells, complete and outright rebellion against her drove her off the already unsteady Summit of Her Sanity.

Fudge sent Umbridge to St. Mungos. She stayed there for the rest of her life. Unfortunately, she lived an extremely long time, one hundred and fifty years. She had twenty children, variously, after fourteen marriages to Fudge, fifteen divorces from Fudge, seven marriages to Filch, and eight divorces from Filch. She went through thirty Healers, thirteen of which joined her ward as legally insane and the rest died through various magical explosions.

Umbridge never got over her insanity of wanting to rule Hogwarts and often she would, seemingly at random, proclaim herself King of the Magical World and Hogwarts and started to treat everyone like slaves. Later, when she turned one hundred and twenty, she was taken by the Department of Mysteries for ten years, where she was poked, prodded, and pranked. She was, at the age of one hundred and thirty-three, returned to St. Mungos. Five books were written about her life.

Snape became one of the best-loved teachers at Hogwarts and lived to a good old age of one hundred. Voldemort eventually went nuts when all his followers suddenly died or defected and he was stolen by the Department of Mysteries. Snape went on to become a Headmaster of Hogwarts and the story of his training to defeat the evil Pink Toad passed into Hogwarts, A History and would be forever told to firsties by prefects and older students. It became one of the few stories to pass into Hogwarts mythos and legend.

...

...

...

Snape opened his eyes, breathing hard and smiling. "Such a good dream." He said. As though Umbridge was that easily driven nuts and as if Voldemort would go even nuttier and he doubted he would ever become Headmaster or a best-loved teacher of Hogwarts. He much preferred taking points off Gryffindor.

With that final happy thought, Snape busied himself for a normal day and never once thought until his dying day on that one dream. On that day, he cursed himself for not doing what his Dream Self did.


	2. Harry Potter's Sorting Song

**As Seen By...**

**Harry Potter's Sorting Song  
**

****The Sorting Hat has not, since 1077, sung it's own songs. This long line was broken in 1473 when Dark Lord Buuttokk tested a spell while invading Hogwarts and all the teachers and most of the students were killed. The following four years required the Sorting Hat to create it's own song. It is known that the Hat was angry and 1475's Sorting Song was entirely based upon the negative attributes of each house.

It was not until 1855 that the Hat again had to sing its own song until the Headmaster at the time, Headmaster Ginger Sprawl-Knack Arcturica Denzel Fensmen, angry with the horribly composed ditty's of the time (the song that caused the snapping point was a rather unmusical one by Professor Dimply Doodun) ordered the Hat to make its own song. In the exact text: "Alright, you bloody Hat, from now on you're composing your own bloody songs! I don't want to hear a ruddy word of resistance! It is futile! FUTILE! Compose your own songs from now-" You get the point.

After that particularly horrifying composition in 1856 did the Hat's duty be forever rehashed permanently and handed over to the teachers. Should a teacher have not been able to compose a song, the duty was handed to a random student.

By pure coincidence, this duty was handed to Harry Potter at the end of the 1999. The person in question, being much less biased, unhappy with all the houses, composed the Hat's Third Favorite Sorting Song, after two particular rhythms done by Professor Snape, who had since died.

With the advice of several people, Harry Potter composed this rather creative song for the Hat, as shown by each verse.

_One_

**It happened about a thousand years or so ago**  
**When the Founders died without any snow**  
**Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Slytherin**  
**All died without any students in**

_Two_

**The Four Founders gave me their authority**  
**And some brains to compose some dittys**  
**To choose the House you're suited for**  
**Because otherwise the other or means you go**

_Three_

**Gryffindor is based on gryffins and yet is housed by a lion**  
**They happen to be reckless and foolish at lieing**  
**They put themselves into thick adventures and**  
**Do so despite the fact they don't think through**

_Four_

**Slytherin is all about snakes and cunning**  
**But don't be confused for it's not Wortcunning**  
**They aspire for power and have a load of ambition  
All people think that they're evil without proof**

_Five_

**Hufflepuff resides on badgers without any card**  
**They lay low and aren't for show and work quite hard**  
**They're called the House of Loyalty despite the fact  
That loyalty is present in the other Houses too**

_Six_

**Ravenclaws are on the intellectual**  
**But they're ineffectual because of love of books**  
**They may be the most intelligent but they have not**  
**A single ounce of logic learned from all that **

_Seven_

**My job is to Sort you into one of those Houses**  
**The names of which come from Four**  
**Whose surnames were ridiculous and I think**  
**You might be incredulous when you learn**  
**The House you belong in**

_Eight_

**Don't fret, don't fear, don't break into tears**  
**I will not take any bribes or threats or treats**  
**So put me on your head all snug and tight**  
**Shut your mouth, Open your mind and**  
**Trust me, This has been my job**  
**For nearly a thousand or so years!**

It was noted in the sixty-seventh edition of Hogwarts, A History, written this time by Hermione Granger, that this is one of the few Sorting songs to not be wholly positive. It was also noted that there has been an increase in more negative Sorting songs in the past two decades.

The song, which was highly fast-paced, became a cult hit among the Hogwarts teachers and Headmasters portraits. However, for the following year Harry Potter was not the best person among the Hogwarts teachers.

* * *

The Sorting Songs by Severus Snape:

A Sorting Song by Severus  
Snape the Knife's Sorting Song

(they are in the form of fanfiction)


	3. Alby, Voldy, Sevvy, and Harry Have Tea

**As Seen By...**

**Alby, Voldy, Sevvy, and Harry Have Tea  
**

**Alby=Albus  
Voldy=Voldemort  
Sevvy=Severus  
Harry=Harry  
Jamesy=James  
Umby=Umbridge  
Fensy=Fensman  
Petey=Pete  
Phiney=Phineas  
**

**Alby**: Hello, Voldy, Harry, and Sevvy, How do you do?

**Voldy**: Evil schemes.

**Harry**: Heroic battles.

**Sevvy**: Frantic spying.

**Harry**: How do you do, Alby?

**Alby**: Grandfatherly figure.

**Sevvy**: What's the point of this, Alby?

**Alby**: Tea time, of course. We're all going to have tea. Four important people from four influential generations. Me, from the 1880's, Voldy, from the 1930's, Sevvy, from the 1960's, and Harry, from the 1980's.

**Voldy**: How cheerful. How kind. How touchingly pointless. How sentimentally stupid.

**Harry**: Shut up, Tom.

**Voldy**: Don't call me that!

**Harry**: It's your given name. You were named after your father, looked like your father, and... then you killed your father and went nuts.

**Voldy**: My father abandoned my mother out of his own greed!

**Harry**: He abandoned your mother after the love potions stopped influencing him. I later learned that he found out about you and was searching for you and... then... you killed him.

**Voldy**: I killed my father, who was looking for me? To give a home?

**Harry**: Yes! You blew your chances of having a nice, loving family by going insane!

**Voldy**: (begins to cry) I could've had a Daddy!

**Harry**: You have some serious daddy issues... and you're like a teenage girl!

**Voldy**: How so? I'm male!

**Harry**: You vested your soul into a diary, a cup, a tiara, a pet, a ring...

**Voldy**: That doesn't explain the many loyal followers! Ha! Ha! HAHAHAHA!

**Harry**: Sure, Voldy. Suuurrreeee.

**Voldy**: Why you little-

**Alby**: Gentlemen, gentlemen, calm yourselves! We're here for tea, not argument!

**Voldy and Harry**: Shut up, Dumb-old-door!

**Alby**: Nonsense! Sevvy, what say you?

**Sevvy**: This is highly amusing. Who knew Potter had a brain?

**Harry**: You still hate me, after all these years!? I named one of my children after you! I called you the bravest man I ever knew. What is wrong with you?

**Sevvy**: Bah. Potter, I am a bitter and petty man. I will not hesitate to sink to low levels and express my anger verbally. To do so physically would be me tarnishing the great name of Sebastian Snape, Master of Wit and Viscount of Sarcasm.

**Harry**: Sebastian Snape? Lame.

**Sevvy**: How dare you tarnish his great name! All Snapes have inherited his great sarcasm! Among my family, I am considered Sebastian Snape re-incarnated!

**Harry**: Lamer.

**Sevvy**: I can't believe you fell for that! As if such a person could exist.

**Harry**: How petty of you, Sevvy. OI! DAD! I NEED YOU TO MEANLY SHOW SNAPE UP!

**Sevvy**: Please! Because Jamesy Potty could show me up now!

**Jamesy**: I would be happy to prove you wrong.

**Sevvy**: Fine then. Let's duel.

**Jamesy**: Stupefy!

**Sevvy**: Protego! Flamenstraif! Pulsata!

**Jamesy**: Protego! Protego! Inciptio! Incendio! Levicorpus!

**Sevvy**: Protego! Protego Shieldum! Levicorpus! Sectumsempra!

**Harry**: Go Snape! Go Dad! Go Snape! Go Dad!

**Voldy**: Snape, Snape, you're the one! If Snape can't sneer no one can!

**Alby**: You will do well, James. I believe in you.

**Jamesy**: Protego Maxima!

**Sevvy**: Langlock! Langlock! Langlock! Langlock!

**Jamesy**: Uk! Curth woo Thnape! I can'tith doss thpells!

**Sevvy**: Idiot! Mucus ad Nauseum! Confringo! Calvario! Locomotor Mortis! Sluggustia Bivomul! Tarantellegra! Ablattero!

**Jamesy**: Uk, youd bek idjith og mat jorkel...

**Sevvy**: Ha! Ha ha! Anaticula!

**Jamesy**: Protego! ... Hm? Why is there a duck? Calvario! A duck? Ablattero! NOT ANOTHER DUCK! You win this round, Snivelly, but I'll be back! I'LL BE BACK! (stomps off angrily while huffing)

**Alby**: You did well, James, even if you lost.

**Voldy**! Ha! Snape won! My loyal servant won! Excellent, Snape! Excellent, Sniv-Severus!

**Sevvy**: (glares at Voldy) I was never your servant. I was loyal to Dumbledore out of my love for Lily. Potter, your father lost! Ha! I win! Take that, Potty!

**Voldy**: (flinches) Don't remind me!

**Harry**: I was cheering for both you and Dad. Needless to say, you win. You also need a good method of releasing your anger. How about... hmm... Literature!

**Sevvy**: Not a chance!

**Voldy**: Ha ha ha...

**Alby**: (glares at Voldy) Actually Severus, the fine print on your contract to work at Hogwarts states that "The employee must, at the request or discretion of the Headmaster, produce literature for the benefit of school, student, or staff."

**Sevvy**: I am flummoxed. Baffled and woebegone. Flabbergasted and befuddled. Perplexed, even. But, since you so desire it... I shall do one rhyme, haiku, and limerick.

(**One hour later**)

**Sevvy**: AHEM!

**Harry**: What's up doc... oh, you did the literature. Let's hear it!

**Voldy**: Kill Potter... huh, oh, about time, Severus.

**Alby**: You took your time, my boy, you took your time.

**Sevvy**: Yes, well... in rhyme:

_On midsummer's morning, your hand held my own  
But by the next day, I was left alone  
The world seemed to chill me bitter ice cold  
But I swore to myself that before we were old  
I would come to you with my heart stuck up my sleeve  
And you'd take me back and we'd not grieve  
But alas, oh alas, you had to go off  
And marry that James Potter.  
_  
Second, in haiku.

_The Boy-Who-Lives face  
Will somehow remind me of  
A pile of dragon dung  
_  
Finally, in limerick.

_The once was a man from Hogwarts-School-of-Witchcraft-and-Wizardry  
Who liked Potions and Charms and even-sometimes-lizardry  
But he got in with a Dark Lord  
And everything became awkward  
And now all he does is wallow-in-his-misery_

Not literally, of course. Just for the sake of your literature.

**Alby**: Very good, my boy. This is now filed in the library.

**Sevvy**: You're ridiculous, Albus. It's almost incredulous.

**Harry**: You're impossible, you're impertinent, you're irreverently cunning! You're smart, intelligent, brave but not chivalrous, you're hideous, you're nasty, and sarcastically witty! You're Severus Snape and yet that's your best literature you come up with?

**Sevvy**: Well, well, excuse me, Harry Potter, but you will find I'm a man of few words, and not of rhyming rhymes! Intelligent, I thank you, bravery is nonsense, oh yes, but sarcastically witty be true!

**Alby**: Voldy, Harry, Sevvy, my friends, surely you think that this is enough? Of this racket, this nonsense, this plethora of argument? Shouldn't we stop, sit down and drink tea, or perhaps maybe something else? Butterbeer, perhaps, or finest Firewhiskey?

**Voldy**: Alby, that's enough, stop speaking like that. Harry's young, Sevvy's old, I'm older, and Alby's oldest. Enough, sit down, let us discuss, I digress, we shall speak of plans and plots and most excellent schemes. Harry, take a seat, it's fine, it's alright! Let's stop this craze, this pizazze and argues!

**Harry**: Oh, shut up, let's sit down and drink our tea, it's the purpose of why we're here, you know, but now somehow we're rhyming and doing literature and dueling! It's enough! Everyone sit your large fat fanny's down and sit! What is wrong with you all?!

**Sevvy**: Sitting!

**Alby**: Sitting!

**Voldy**: Sitting! (accidently slams table, knocking down Sevvy's tea)

**Sevvy**: VOLDY! (angrily stands up, causing Harry to fall)

**Harry**: SEVVY! (table falls on Alby)

**Alby**: HARRY! (breaks the teacups in fit of anger

**Harry**: ALBY!

**Voldy**: QUIRRELL!

(everyone looks at Voldy. Voldy shrugs.)

**Voldy**: What? Everyone got to yell out a name but me! And all the other names were taken, to!

**Alby, Sevvy, Harry**: VOLDY!

**Voldy**: HARRY!

**Sevvy**: DIE!

**Umby**: Mr. Potter! Detention for spreading lies!

**Harry**: What are you doing here, Dolores Umbridge?

**Alby**: You're fired!

**Sevvy**: Avada Kedavra!

**Umby**: AAAAAAAAAAAAAH! (runs away while Avada Kedavra chases her like guided missile)

**Voldy**: Glad that's over with.

**Harry**: You didn't do anything.

**Voldy**: So?

**Harry**: Its - but - the point - idiot - stupid - thing - it's the - ugh! You're impossible!

**Voldy**: YAY ME!

**Alby**: (looks pointedly at Voldy)

**Voldy**: (fidgets uncomfortably)

**Sevvy**: So... how is everybody?

**Harry**: Excellent, you?

**Sevvy**: Just fine.

**Voldy**: Feel like killing.

**Alby**: That's how you always feel, Tom.

**Voldy**: Now I feel like killing you.

**Alby**: Only since fifth year did you want to.

**Voldy**: Fifth year is when I opened the Chamber of Secrets and killed Myrtle.

**Alby**: Shut up, Voldy.

**Harry**: Yeah, shut up!

**Sevvy**: I'm in agreement with Potter and Albus.

**Voldy**: Why does everybody gang up on me so? Have I not been the most polite host? Have I not given the best tea? Is this table not finest redwood? Are you not immensely and completely pleased?

**Alby**: Angullio.

**Voldy**: It's Anguillio.

**Alby**: I didn't hear anything different.

**Voldy**: I wrote it down and magically played the text aloud.

**Harry**: Why would you waste time doing that?

**Voldy**: Grr... Imperio.

**Harry**: I do not a floaty feeling and will directly disobey Voldy.

**Voldy**: Call me Lord Voldemort.

**Harry**: Sir Stinkenheimer.

**Voldy**: Grr...

**Harry**: Gir to you to.

**Voldy**: What is the name of the bearded old man sitting opposite of us?

**Harry**: Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore. What is the name of the greasy-haired black-cloaked man?

**Voldy**: Severus Tobias Snape.

**Alby**: What is the name of the Dark Lord that caused the Sorting Hat to compose it's own dittys for four years?

**Sevvy**: Dark Lord Buuttokk. What is the name of the Headmaster that caused the Sorting Hat to sing one of the worst Sorting songs in history?

**Alby**: Ginger Sprawl-Knack Arcturica Denzel Fensman, one of my most hated predecessors.

**Harry**: And why do you hate him?

**Alby**: He has longer initials. I have A.P.W.B.D., a good five letters, but Fensman had to have G.S.K.A.D.F., a fair six letters. One letter more then my own initials! How dare he! He's the worst Headmaster in history!

**Fensy**: What was that, Albus?

**Alby**: Um, nothing, former Headmaster, sir.

**Fensy**: That's what I thought. Look to Phineas Nigellus Priscus Aquarius Leo Almaric Black. P.N.P.A.L.A.B. Seven letters! One more then mine and two more then yours! Hate him for Pete's sake!

**Petey**: What was that?

**Fensy**: Nothing, Pete. Now get out of here before you're expelled!

**Petey**: Yes sir.

**Alby**: I hate Phineas Too-Many-Last-Names Black.

**Phiny**: What was that, Albus?

**Alby**: Ah, shut up Phineas!

**Phiny**: I'm older and wiser then you. It is you who should shut up.

**Alby**: No, I'm wiser, you should shut up, I've fought two wars and you haven't fought one! I'm wiser!

**Phiny**: Keep telling yourself that.

**Alby**: Bah humbug.

**Sevvy**: Alby! That's a Christmas line and mine, damn it!

**Alby**: So?

**Sevvy**: So you don't say it!

**Harry**: Let's drink the tea! We've had duels, numerous arguments, arguments about initials, hatred of former Headmasters, visits from former Headmasters, visits from a random bloke named Pete, curses, anger, randomly said names/spells/places, history tests... let's just sit down and DRINK THE BLOODY TEA ALREADY! (there is a magical storm)

**Sevvy**: Fine!

**Alby**: Fine!

**Voldy**: Fine!

**Harry**: Thank you. (sips tea)

(everyone sips tea)

**Everyone**: Delicious!

**Harry**: Have we had a good time?

**Alby**: Generally. Indubitably. Quite. Relatively.

**Voldy**: Yes.

**Sevvy**: Surprisingly, I enjoyed myself.

**Umby**: AAAAAAAAAAAAAH! (is still running from Avada Kedavra)

**Fensy**: Wonderful.

**Petey**: Yes.

**Everyone**: Go away, Pete!

**Petey**: Fine.

**Phiny**: No, this was miserable, horrible, boring - (everyone glares at Phiny) - I, I mean fun, wonderful, and joyous.

**Harry**: We've learned a valuable lesson today. But, since we already know it, why waste our time repeating it?


	4. The Journal of Severus Snape I

**As Seen By...**

**The Journal of Severus Snape  
**

"S-So, S-Severus, what w-was your l-line of w-work b-before Potions?" Quirrell, that bumbling buffoon, dared to ask me, the brilliant Severus Snape, master of Spy Tactics. How dare he ask me my line of work before Potions.

So I decided to prank him. Yes, prank him with my masterful Spy Tactics (with capitals) and wonderful wit, my soothing sarcasm. "Dentristy, Quirinus."

I could easily see he was annoyed. A mere student would not see it (they're not very bright) but I, master of Spy Tactics, could easily see through his thin veneer of interest. Ha.

"R-really, S-Severus?" Quirinus asked me disbelievingly. How dare he not believe my perfectly executed and excellently acted out lie!

"Yes. Well, as you know, Dentristry and Potions are intimately related, almost like cousins, in fact. The teeth of many animals as well as tongues of various creatures are especially useful in Potions that heal the teeth, poison the body, kill, jinx, hex, curse, kill, murder, assassinate, deteriorate or any other method of pain to the human body. Blood is good as well.

"The wisdom teeth, particularly, are used in the Wise Words Potion, which is highly difficult to make, despite the common beliefs of many people, and it makes people temporarily wiser, up to a week, in fact...

* * *

"S-S-So, the t-t-t-teeth of b-blubbering, t-t-turban-w-wearing m-m-messes m-make w-w-wise p-p-p-p-potions more p-powerful?"

"That's very correct, highly eloquent, you blubbering, turban-wearing mess! So, seeing as that Dentistry and Potions are so inter-related, I would just beg for the opportunity to take... er, steal... er, permanently borrow... er, plunder your teeth! They would be so very useful."

"W-what is wrong with you! AAAAH!" Quirinus yelled a manly-yet-girly scream and ran out the door, slamming it. He soon came back to my door, and of course, being a master of Spy Tactics, I knew it immediately.

I cracked. Snapped. I laughed, convulsing in it for half-an-hour. At first, I thought Quirinus might think that I was so impressed by his manly scream I couldn't bear it, but of course, once I sobbed in laughter I was completely sure he was convinced.

How could Quirinus Quiever Quirrell ever believe such nonsense? And how did each of his three names manage to begin with Q, U, and I? But that was not the point. I digress. I need to get to a meeting with Dumbledore.

"Yes, Albus?"

"Weeeelll..."

"Yes, Albus."

"Ummmm... I wanted you here to enjoy your company."

I let out a very manly scream. Dumbledore began to chuckled. He was, of course, doing so because he was so impressed by my manly scream he couldn't bear it, but then he started sobbing in laughter, I was unconvinced.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Bloody Dumba-" I stopped, for Dumbledore pushed the big red button on his desk, sending me through a long slide down two floors of the castle, a fall for three of them, staged bouncing on multiple trampolines through the five other floors, and a long fall down the two remaining floors and the dungeons to my bed.

I was, of course, screaming very colorful profanities that mentioned cults, sanity, lack of sanity, stalking, foolishness, lemon drops, drugs, Potion-induced wiseness, intelligence, lack of intelligence, blood, fury, fat people, robes, lack of fashion sense, ruddy hair, bloody beard, and hellraising hats.

You get the idea. I screamed profanities. For the rest of the day, the sounds of my multi-colored and large offensive vocabulary would ring through the halls.

That was my Fifty-Seventh and One-Half Worst Day of My Life, recorded on my list as always. I barricaded myself in a broom cupboard.

Filch would die an early death because he had a few smelly brooms, mops, and dangerous cleaning solvents missing. In many a time, First Years would skitter nervously by the Cupboard Door on the Fourth Floor's Right-Hand Corridor, knowing that the most frightening Potions Master to ever live resided in there. Seventh Years would make bets on to open the door or not, and the few brave Gryffindors that did would never be seen again.

I would die a fulfilled and content life in this small, dank, dark, misty, uncomfortable, smelly, stinky place. Never again would I teach another class of dunderheads. Never again would McGonagall barge in on me while I was ferreting about (it's a great stress relieve) and never again would another girl badger me about "the painters" being in. Never again...

Ah ha ha ha ha ha... AH HA HA HA HA HA! AH HA HA HA HA Ha Ha ha! I cackled with great, malicious glee. I would become known as the Dark Lord of the Cupboard... the Horror on the Fourth Floor... the Terror of the Right-Hand Corridor... HA HA HA HA HA!

I cackled again. Not out of malicious glee, but anticipation.

"**SEVERUS AQUARIUS PRISCUS DRAGONICA TOBIAS DARIUS SNAPE!**" McGonagall screamed angrily. I could hear it from here, and she was in the dungeons. I could tell. I'm a Master of Spy Tactics, clearly.

* * *

Only after two months after the Cupboard Incident did I dare joke with McGonagall. She was very angry about me hiding, even when I explained my clearly righteous and well-deserved reasons for a Cupboardian retirement, but she scoffed and huffed and swished out of my room. How dare she swish out of my room?

I had to do a lot of ferreting to relieve my heavy, heavy stress. I also spent some "quality time" with my lovely and large pet rock. We did questionable things on the couch, rubbing against each other...

But alas. McGonagall barged in one day, demanding I eat at the Great Hall while I was ferreting. I was ferreting, a highly dignified exercise, and she ruined it! She shook on the floor in convulsions for twenty-five minutes. At first, I thought it was that she was so impressed by my poise and grace the old hag couldn't bear, but I was proven wrong when puddles of tears from the laughter permeated by nostrils.

So she asked me why, why was I on the ground pretending to be a ferret?

I replied with heavy dignity. I was searching for my eyeglasses.

So she responded with that I didn't have eyeglasses.

"Minerva, a woman of your stature should be able to comprehend the secretive lives of those secretive secrets they secretly lead. Such as my eyeglasses. They are on an important and secretively secret mission which is why they, er, can't be with us." I replied with dignity.

She looked at me as though she didn't think I knew what I was talking about, because I didn't know what I was talking about and she didn't know what I was talking about so she looked at me because neither of us knew what I was talking about.

She proceeded to say as such. "Severus, neither I nor you know what you are talking about. What are you doing on the floor, and why aren't you in the Great Hall?"

"You've been down here for thirty minutes, Minerva. Why are you not in the Great Hall?" I asked with as much dignity and pride I could gather up from the shattered pieces of my hastily-and-not-very-well-repaired ego.

I stood up, rushed off imaginary dirt, and left my classroom. I showed her! Ha ha.

* * *

_**Spy Tac****tics: A Comprehensive and Full Refreshener  
Author: Severus Snape  
Illustrator: Severus Snape  
User: Severus Snape  
Publisher: Severus Snape  
Published: N-EV-ER  
Owner: Severus Snape  
Additional Helpers:  
Severus Snape  
Severus Snape  
Severus Snape  
Lucius Malfoy  
Severus Snape  
**_  
_The Fine and Delicate Art of Spying is essential to survive inside the group of Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters and Headmaster Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. Henceforth, the Death Munchers and Order of Chickens. _

_This book is to not be published, made public, and its existence should be kept secret. All persons to know of the existence of this book are to be promptly Obliviated if they are not the primary user and owner of this book._

_**Disclaimer: If your spying tactics fail, the publisher, Snapely Inc., is not in any way responsible for your (inevitable) death, incapacitation, decapitation, assassination, short life, illness, sickness, hatred, petty grudge, fears, or murder by any person. Should that happen, it is unlikely you would be capable of suing anyway.** _

_Spying includes the mastery of face, emotion, mind, mentality, paranoia, temper, body language, language, foreign language, and creature language. It includes the complete and thorough understanding of thought process, insanity, face, emotion, body language, creature language, codes, and ciphers.  
_

_Skills useful in spying are being skinny, thin, looking starved, while getting full meals, retaining excellent health, having back-up plans for everything, preparation for covering-up failed cover-ups, blending with the shadows, showing little 'positive' emotion, Occlumency and Legilimency.  
_

_Glaring is one of the most useful tools in the spy's arsenal, straight by looking down at minions. Glaring is the first step to learning how to become a masterful expert of being condescending, another useful tool. However, tight control must be reigned on glaring. Glaring at your Dark Lord Master may get you killed or tortured.  
_  
I sighed in agony and rubbed my forehead. Putting spy tactics onto paper is so hard! Eurgh! It couldn't be more difficult.

At least Lucius made it better by including a Disclaimer should this book ever fall out of my hands. Time to Floo to Malfoy Manor...


	5. Mischief UnManaged I

**As Seen By...**

**Mischief UnManaged I  
**

The train to Hogwarts, at last! Harry grinned at Paddy, Padfoot, Sirius Black, the Man-Who-Raised-The-Boy-Who-Lived. "Be sure to play pranks on old Snapey!"

Harry smiled evilly as he boarded the train. "Of course! Gryffindor colored potions... clean hair... pink robes... so much time, so little to do... scratch that, reverse it..." Harry muttered.

Sirius shuddered and smiled at his adoptive son. The boy could really play a good prank, even though he was a tad absentminded and unfocused. But if Harry was really motivated, he was excellent. Sirius often said that "In any prank war, the faction that has Harry James Sirius Potter in it is, by default of Harry Potter existing, the winner."

Harry loved that phrase. He was also 'educating the first years.'

"Yes, Ms. Gungan, for the Sorting Hat to Sort you completely, 100% accurately, totally right, you must, once you sit on the stool, scream very loudly and clearly your deepest, darkest secret."

"No, Mr. Nabooine, I am not joking. You will find that, in 1456-"

And also entertaining them in the train cart that had only seats on the walls with stories of the legendary Marauders.

Of course, then Fred and George Weasley appeared, bowed to him, and declared a prank war to prove that the Weasley Duo is far superior to the New Marauders. Harry responded to it grinning and once they left they were charmed Slytherin colors.

"The Squib Dye Job of 1972 is considered by some to be one of the greatest pranks to ever be pulled on the Caretaker, Argus Filch, known Squib and Students' Enemy Number Two, with Severus Snape, current Pulchritudinous Potions Professor, the Students' Enemy Number One. Argus Filch is a lonely and bitter man and so he was in full deservation of what came to him-"

What can he say, he's his father's, godfather's, and unofficial godfather's son. The blood of the greatest pranksters to ever exist runs in his blood...

Speaking of which, he needed to get back to writing that Declaration of War Against the Weasley Twins.

* * *

"My mother had an affair with the Minister!"

"My room at home smells!"

"I think Dumbledore is an ape!"

"I think Snape is rude!"

Screams, yells, and crys of very insulting, very secretive things rang through the Great Hall. The entire student body and staff were laughing, except Snape, Dumbledore, and McGonagall, the Head Boy, Head Girl, and most of the Slytherins.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Hat yelled out upon Harry.

"I have an announcement to make!" Harry immediately said as he walked to the Gryffindor table, standing on his steadily rising chair.

"IT IS THE DECISION of Harry James Sirius Potter, the Founder and First Member, also currently Only Member, of the Order of Flaming Squirrell's, the endorsed pranking heir society and organization to the Marauders, by the Presiding Leaders Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, being as Presiding Leader James Potter is permanently dead.

"That there is now, henceforth, and hereforth, a pranking war against the mock pranking society 'Weasley Twins' is hereby in effect, to not be called off until the Order of Flaming Squirrell's and so-called Weasley Twins mayhaps work out a truce, deal, end, partnership, companionship, or peace.

"This is, defined by the terms of the Declaration, a no-bars no-holds complete and all-out pranking war without limits but two. The two limits are defined henceforth: Rubber ducks named Tom are permanently prohibited. Second, The previous rule is out of effect starting December 15 at 11:59.

"This Declaration of War against the Weasley Twins by the Order of Flaming Squirrell's has been approved and signed of by Presiding Leader Harry Potter.

"Disclaimer: Any non-permanent jinxes, charms, and hexes that are used on the Weasley Twins in potentially humiliating ways are, in every way, the fault of the Order of Flaming Squirrells. The Order doesn't like, approve of, respect, or associated with you. Unless you want peace. You'll have to schedule a meeting by Owl Post, using only Order-Approved Owls. Thank You for listening, and may the Weasley Twins be forever humiliated." Harry's seat the slowly went down as Harry sat down, mock-bowing and smiling at Snape especially.

* * *

September Fourth was the day of the first Potions lesson with Professor Snape. The two pranking societies - referred to as the Twins and the Squirrells - were biding their time, drawing up anticipation, tense feelings, and all leading up to the premiere of pranks during the aforementioned first Potions lesson.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving in my classroom." Snape exclaimed, barging in, robe billowing and door banging against the wall.

"What about foolish spoon-waving?" Harry asked, the very picture of innocence and adorability.

Snape did not think so. No, he was enraged, infuriated, angered, maddened, incensed, provoked, annoyed, antagonized, affronted, irritated, offended, and caused the wrath of Severus Snape.

"Of course not, Potter, you're just like your father..." He muttered.

"Really? Can you tell me about him? Were you two best friends? And is his death the reason you've become a bitter, petty, grudged, easily-irritated person who can't drop a grudge on a dead man after eleven years and transferred that hatred upon an impressionable eleven year old you don't know that could easily think that your childish behavior is socially acceptable?" Harry said very quickly and in a nasally four-year-old's voice.

"I am not bitter, petty, grudged, easily-irritated person. I was not best friends with that arrogant, bullying toe-rag-"

"Of course not, Snape, you're just like yourself..." Harry mocked Snape's previous sentence.

"Moving on. Five points from Gryffindor."

("Five points from Snapengton...")

"I doubt any of you will understand the subtle science, the delicate art of Potion-making."

("I doubt you all will be able to comprehend the exact art and complex analytics of Spoon-crafting...")

"But, for those of you who do, I can teach you to brew glory, stir luck, and even put a stopper in... death."

("But, for the few of you who do, I can tell you how to craft spoons, rival forks, and even make them fit for... eating.")

"Potter. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry spoke again very fast and in a four year-olds voice, ignoring the quivering hand beside him. "It depends on what country you go to, Professor, in Britain it is ordinarily the Draught of Living Death if you use the lemongrass stabilizer and the correct heat however mixed with other ingredients, heats, cauldrons, and stabilizers, as well the country, environment,"

"That's enough, Potter! Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I would look in the Potions cupboard, my Potions-making set, or perhaps in the stomach of a goat, horse, or cow, if you search for a certain type of bezoar, which I doubt, or mayhaps take a Time-Turner at few millenia into the past to search through a dinosaurs stomach, but then you'd have to be really desperate, so I'd say the Potions cupboard, set, store, or the stomach of a goat, horse or cow."

"Acceptable. What are the differences between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"None, sir, they are also known as aconite, the same plant, over 250 different varieties of plant, it is also known as Leopard's bane, Women's bane, Devil's helmet, blue rocket, and various species are known as Yellow Monkshood, Carmichael's monkshood, Western monkshood, Northern Blue monkshood, Kamchatka monkshood, Larkspurleaf monkshood, Trailing White monkshood, Indian aconite, Fischer monkshood,"

"Enough, Potter! Know to much for your own good..."

Harry grinned at the man, who glared at Harry, causing Harry to grin even wider.

Harry couldn't wait to hear of what happened during the third years' Potions class and what Fred and George would do.


	6. The Order of the Jarvey

**As Seen By...**

**The Order of the Jarvey  
**

_****Harry Potter.  
__Neville Longbottom.  
__Hermione Granger.  
__Fred Weasley.  
George Weasley.  
__Luna Lovegood.  
__Remus Lupin.  
Sirius Black._

_These are the founding members to the Order of the Jarvey. During Voldemort's second rise, the Order of the Jarvey was founded and created by Harry Potter to fight against the Death Eaters.  
_

_The Order of the Jarvey, unlike the Order of the Phoenix, actively fought against Voldemort and recruited ordinary people that were threatened by Voldemort. 76% of all fifteen-year-old Muggleborns joined the Order of the Jarvey to fight against the threat against their families.  
_

_The Order of the Jarvey quickly became a much more active body against Voldemort, leading raids through bases and driving down the numbers of Death Eaters.  
_

_However, during 1998 Voldemort created the first Avatars out of the bodies of Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Fenrir Greyback, Bellatrix Lestrange, Gerald Goyle, and Verity Crabbe. These Avatars were extremely powerful and it took many, many Killing Curses to take on down.  
_

_Voldemort was creating Avatars at a frightening pace during 1999-2001, wasting his own power. These weaker Avatars were easily defeated and Voldemort was soon running out of minions.  
_

_During 2002, the Battle of Finality occurred, ending the second war against Voldemort, as Voldemort was defeated by Harry Potter and all the minions dead.  
_

_The Order of the Phoenix faded into obscurity, an inactive society, while the Order of the Jarvey took action outside of fighting and started several orphanages and revolutionized the Ministry of Magic. In addition, magical children placed in Muggle orphanages were sought out and placed in magical orphanages, as to not create another Voldemort after his childhood was revealed.  
_

_The Order of the Jarvey also heavily changed the Magical Children Registry to make sure that magical children are treated well and not in an abusive household.  
_

_Dolores Umbridge was imprisoned, Cornelius Fudge was removed from his post, Rufus Scrimgeour was removed from his post, Amelia Bones got back to her old job. The Ministry was revolutionized and a school for Muggleborns to learn wizard culture was created, as a type of wizard 'pre-school.' The Weasley family was reinstated to the Wizengamot and Albus Dumbledore was removed from all posts.  
_

_The Board of Governors chose Harry Potter as the new Headmaster. As Headmaster, he did a load of research and ended the Board of Governors, which was found to be an illegitimate society. After a mere five years as Headmaster, Minerva McGonagall took over as Headmistress.  
_

_The next few decades were peaceful. Until a new Dark Lord, Velesma'ka rose, a Muggleborn that was angry at the bullying purebloods he suffered through all his life. This Dark Lord gathered many pureblood, muggleborn, and half-blood followers. the Order of the Jarvey reformed and immediately began the fight against the upstart Dark Lord.  
_

_It took only two years to defeat Velesma'ka, but as he was the most violent Dark Lord in history, there were more deaths then since Voldemort's long first war.  
_

_The Order of the Jarvey, having fought two Dark Lords, again disbanded and continued to revolutionize the Ministry, which had changed since the rise of Velesma'ka.  
_

_The secret weapon of the Order of the Jarveys were specially-bred Jarveys that were taught high-quality insults and offenses, as well as ways to bite. The Jarveys were also magically enhanced to tell someone's deepest insecurity. This lead to many victories.  
_

_In the words of Ol' Jarv, the first specially-bred Jarvey, "Bloody Order defeat horrible Death Munchers that smell like ruddy mud." Ol' Jarv lives on as the pet Jarvey of Harry Potter.  
_


	7. The Journal of Severus Snape II

**As Seen By...**

**The Journal of Severus Snape II  
**

Christmas. What a lovely affair. I got into the Christmas spirit. Meaning, I ate the Christmas spirits, stuffed them into my tea and crushed them with a good Defodio.

But, I seemed to be running into Potter everywhere. Literally.

In the hall, in the Entrance Hall, in the Great Hall, in the Quidditch field, in the Quidditch stands, under the Quidditch stands, on top the of the largest Quidditch Quaffle hoop, by the Lake, in the Lake, under the Lake, in the bathroom, in the staff bathroom, in the girls' bathroom (expedition to refresh my Spy Tactics mastery), in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom (another expedition)... deep breath...

In my office, in Dumbledore's office, in an empty office, in my class, in Binns' class, in Flitwick's class, in the cupboard in Flitwick's class, in an entirely empty class, in Hagrid's hut, under Hagrid's hut's porch, under a large pile of snow near Hagrid's hut, behind Hagrid's hut, behind Hagrid's dog's bed, behind Hagrid, in the kitchens, on the Astronomy Tower, in the North Tower... deep breath...

In the greenhouses, behind the greenhouses, behind the pile of manure behind the greenhouses, behind the tree stump behind the pile of manure behind the greenhouses, on the roof of the greenhouses, running from a Devil's Snare in the greenhouses, in the Mervillage under the Lake, in the first year Potions class, eating breakfest, eating lunch, eating dinner, eating a chocolate frog, and drinking tea.

Strange, yes? About forty-five times, roughly. There's so many times I can't keep count.

So to avoid a potential even-or-odd-numbered encounter in the late forties, I decided to become a Christmas tree ornament.

I lunged at it and gripped firmly, trying to think Christmas-tree-ornament thoughts. Unfortunately, I was praising myself for the excellent reflexes and bodily strength I had. And the incredible resilience needed for gripping those pine needles and those branches in sensitive areas, such as my armpits.

"S-Severus?" Quirrell asked. I remained still. This way he would believe I was only a me-shaped-and-sized ornament.

That would have worked except for a particular persistent fly. I tried blinking it unnoticably. It worked, but the fly was persistent.

The fly made me angry, you understand. That is the only thing that lead me to flailing my arms about, falling off the tree, the tree falling on me, breaking my left leg, and giving me a black eye. I got up with all the dignity and pride I could pick up from my hastily-repaired-twice ego and left, pine needles still stuck inside.

Once I reached my dungeons, I banged my head at the ridiculousness of it all.

I encountered Potter again, watching me.

So I let out a very manly scream and shriek of anguish, emotion, anger, unfairness, and the fury of it all. However, my anger was unsatisfied. So I went into the Closet of No Return and vented my anger on my old stick-on mustache and pieces of my first pet rock.

Those pieces became shards. Those shards became grains. Those grains became dust. Those dusts became molecules. Those molecules became atoms. I was satisfied.

But, that was only the beginning of my troubles. There was a Whomping Willow, hippogriff, and Harry Potter in my closet. I pressed a stick on the branch of the willow, chivalrously bowed to the hippogriff, and picked up Potter like a battering ram. I opened the door, and very kindly and politely, threw him out like a straight arrow. I hope he landed on his head.

How many times was that? Damn! An odd-number in the late forties! Thank heavens it hasn't been into the 50's, the 60's would be boring, the 70's would be getting ridiculous, the 80's would have me screaming about tearing down walls, the 90's would be me going nuts and being nice.

Come to think of it, each oh those had a slight parallel to the actual time.

Interesting.

* * *

Trelawney, that old haggedy witch, barged in. She and McGonagall are enemies, yet Trelawney repeated McGonagall's feat! How dare she! And she was holding a ruddy tarot deck! A RUDDY TAROT DECK!

However, I am not the type of person to express my anger verbally. No, I drop little hints. Just look at the last time an emotionally-challenged student came to me with their worries:

_"Professor Snape, I have an emotional challenge I think you could help me with. See, I'm in love with Adrian Pucey, but he's in love with my best friend, Jenniferius." _

_"I do not care."  
_

_"I was thinking that you could aid me, help me, with a few love potions or Transfigurations of certain body parts to make them more desirable."  
_

_"Even if I was interested in your drivel, I would not help you."  
_

_"That's good then, Professor, because you can help me a lot that way with those Transfigurations..."  
_

_"DETENTION!" I screamed, not verbally expressing my anger. I prefer adjectives. Whatever those are. It gives me a good excuse to use Muggle grammar rules.  
_

_"No thanks, Professor, just a few Potions..."  
_

_"DETENTION! FOR A MONTH! FOR THE FIRST AND LAST TIME I HAVE NO CARE FOR TEENAGE HORMONES!"  
_

_"I'll see you at eight then, Professor, then we can work on it, hehehe..."  
_

_"I DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR HORMONES! I DON'T CARE! I DON'T CARE! I - DO - NOT - CARE!" I was righteously angry. I had that student shelling the worst things, making the hardest potions, and doing generally unpleasant tasks.  
_

_But while the girl left, I foamed in the mouth in anger. I also searched for my tea.  
_  
See? No verbal anger at all.

"Desire! Love! Panic!" Trelawney dropped her cards. "The cards! They have seen! No matter, I remember them all."

"Panic! Murder! Deceit! Honor! Loneliness! Fear! Happiness! Torture! Death! Love! Destruction! Desire! Bedclothing! Suspicion! Shrine! Brine! Emotional Challenges!"

"Who is it then, you old hag?!"

"Dark man - black hair - hollow eyes like dark tunnels - fascination with Dark Arts - enjoys long walks on beaches, activities with rocks while nacked on couches - dark in appearance - power - billowing robes -"

"Yes, it's quite clear it's me." With those parting words, I put her in a full body-bind, individually sticked each of her tarot cards to various parts of her body and clothing, and the heaved her to the North Tower. Upon reaching the trapdoor, I threw her in.

"AND STAY OUT!" I yelled dramatically, then stalked off in righteous fury. I do not huff. I stalk off in righteous fury. Just so we are very, very clear.

* * *

Dumbledore waltzed in calmly. No knocks, no nothing! Somehow, all those old bags manage get past my seven-one-half-and-three-quarters Alohomora-proof doors! Sure, I left them open for the breeze, but it's the point of the thing.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaah... Seeeeeeevvvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeee eeeerrrrrrrrrrruuuuusssssss..." Dumbledore said as soon as he sat down in a conjured sofa.

I hoped that not having any chairs in here would discourage people from staying, but Albus never gets the point. Him and his damn conjuration!

"I've had some quite exciting accounts of your days. Playing with trees, assaulting Trelawney, then throwing young Harry out of your office? You seem to have unreleased anger, and I know just how to release that. Music!"

I nearly exploded. I could almost feel the steam coming out of my ears.

"No."

"The fine print of your contract-"

"Fine."

"You shall perform it in front of the entire school."

I very nearly blew a gasket. I did not explode, but I did send curses at Dumbledore. He ran like the Road Runner and jumped for good measure. It was a good method of releasing my anger. Stupid old bags.

* * *

"First. A limerick.

"There once was a man named Albus Dumbledore  
To tell the truth he is really quite the bore  
He's Leader of Light  
And also a blight  
His wishes and his wants are a pain in the pore."

I could tell Albus was regretting his decision!

"Second. I'm done." I said and stepped down from the pedestal. "And next, we have Professor Minerva Mariette McGonagall." McGonagall nearly exploded. I smirked. A didn't. A doesn't exist.

"Um, well, er, um... The um Song!

"Um, um, well er, um, um  
Err, well um, um um, err!

"Done." McGonagall sat back down, glaring daggers, fangs, swords, and katana blades at me. Hmm. The katana blades are a new one. I'm more used to daggers.

I merely smirked at the old lady bag wearing green and sneered at the old bearded bag with twinkling eyes. I loathe old bags. (Albus banned me from using the word hate. So instead I use heavily dislike, loathe, despise...) Absolutely loathe them. And it's mutual for the old lady bag wearing green. The old bearded bag with twinkling eyes in completely mental.

I really enjoyed that limerick. I should do them more. There's still room, even in poetry, for insults. It's almost amazing.

I almost smiled that day.

Almost.


	8. Reverse Role

**As Seen By...**

**Reverse Role  
**

Harry opened his eyes. Hagrid. Dudley. Petunia. Vernon.

He had a second chance. He could save Fred, Tonks, Remus... Sirius...

First year went exactly the same as the first life. Snape's hatred was easily shrugged off. The troll was again hit on the head. Everything worked excellently. Quirrell died again by Voldemort's hand again.

Second year was great, until Harry turned the corner and saw a pair of yellow eyes... then everything went blank.

* * *

He was back for his second life. Dudley blubbering, Hagrid cooking, Petunia screaming, and Vernon threatening. He was back again. He was back on the Hut on the Rock.

But this time, he was to careful. The broom really did buck. The last thing Harry saw for his third life was the ground rushing at him while others, in the distance, yelled and screamed.

* * *

Harry just decided for his third life to 'prank' Quirrell into taking off his turban.

Boom.

The turban came off and Quirrell sent an AK at Harry, killing the Horcrux. Harry sent Stupefys back at the man, who died. There was an uproar. Fudge refused to believe it and threw Harry in Azkaban, where he met his end, as so many had before, from the Dementor's Kiss.

* * *

The fourth life, Harry decided to be James Potter reborn. Pranks, pranks, pranks, and more pranks. The first books he buys are on charms for pranks. Jinxes and Hexes.

First year, Quirrell got the turban exposed... while in Dumbledore's office. Voldemort exposed.

Second year, Ginny Weasley never received the dangerous Diary of Tom Riddle.

Third year, Sirius Black was proven innocent after Peter Pettigrew was found in the Auror's Office.

During the first task, Harry wanted to prank the dragon, but it burned him to death.

* * *

The second chances stopped feeling like second chances. Harry decided to become a manipulative bastard:

First year, he lured Quirrell and Snape to their deaths.

Second year, the basilisk was under his control.

Third year, Dumbledore was removed from post of Headmaster for not doing well to the school.

Fourth year, Gilderoy Lockhart became Headmaster and the Tri-Wizard Tournament was based on publicity contests.

Fifth year, Dolores Umbridge replaced Lockhart as Headmaster. Lockhart, seeking revenge, Obliviated Umbridge while she shot Avada Kedavra at him. The two spells hit each other. Both Umbridge and Lockhart were removed from the school.

_August Baddlestone - Headmaster- 1730-1792  
Newton Artemis Scamander - Headmaster - 1792-1840  
Phineas Nigellus Black - Headmaster - 1840-1915  
Armando Dippet - Headmaster - 1915-1956  
Albus Percival Dumbledore - Headmaster - 1956-1992  
Minerva McGonagall - Headmistress - 1992  
Albus Percival Dumbledore - Headmaster - 1992-1994  
Gilderoy Lockhart - Headmaster - 1994-1995  
Dolores Umbridge - Headmistress - 1996  
Lucius Malfoy - Headmaster - 1996  
Filius Flitwick - Headmaster - 1996-1999  
_  
That was as far as Harry knew, because he died January first, 1999, tripping off his untied shoelaces and falling off the Astronomy Tower, into the lake, where he died of suffocation and constriction.

* * *

The sixth life Harry decides to study protective and memory magic. Hermione finds him, nose in book while Ron passed by, muttering bookworm.

Harry and Hermione strike up a conversation on time. The friendship is not the same.

Harry barely notices first year passes without so much a glance at Quirrell nor the Sorceror's Stone. Harry sleeps in the library, literally.

The sixth second year passes by without notice. Harry eventually looks up from his books to see that the school has closed, with the deaths of Ginny Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Hermione Granger, and Draco Malfoy.

In a mad attempt at revenge, Harry's last sight is the basilisk's fang impaled inside his heart while a newly living Tom Riddle smirks.

* * *

Harry screams in anger as a magical storm whips around him, destroying the hut on the rock and killing Petunia and Dudley. Hogwarts staff appear everywhere and have to send several Stunners and Body-Binders at him to stop him. And his adrenaline wasn't going anywhere as Harry went to bed uneasily.

He wakes up to several magical suppresants and calming potions. Harry roars in anger again. He failed for six times now. Sometime while Hogwarts is eroded from the inside, Harry dies from Potion overdose.

* * *

In the eight life, Harry is seen as Albus Dumbledore second coming. Innovation, research, property, fame, fortune, popularity. He is seen, along with Dumbledore and Tom Riddle, quite possibly the most brilliant student Hogwarts had ever seen. It was helped that Harry had already lived six times before.

First year, Harry successfully exposed Voldemort from Quirrell.

Second year, the basilisk was killed and the diary was destroyed, then presented to Dumbledore, who alerted the Board of Governors, who alerted the Ministry of Magic, who alerted the Daily Prophet, which printed a special issue on what Harry did.

Third year, Sirius Black is successfully proven innocent by a happy Harry Potter. The Ministry is overhauled, Fudge ousted, Malfoy ousted, Board of Governors disbanded, Umbridge ousted, many purebloods and half-bloods ousted. Amelia Bones assumes position as Minister for Magic.

Fourth year is the most peaceful one yet, despite Harry's recent development of a modified and improved Skele-Gro.

Fifth year is almost peaceful. Upon reaching for his quill in D.A.D.A., Harry is whisked away to a familiar cauldron, junior Crouch, and graveyard. Voldemort is revived. Harry barely makes it out alive. It takes phoenix tears to heal the large wound.

Sixth year is the most dangerous. Hogwarts got raid attempts weekly. It became normal for students to wake up on the slightest ward disruption, wand in hand and ready to fight. Dumbledore dies while searching for the ring. Hogwarts chooses Harry as Headmaster. Harry strengthens wards. He forgot Malfoy's plot, though. After two Avada Kedavra's successfully hit him, Harry dies again.

* * *

In the eleventh life Harry reeks havoc where he goes. He is soon lauded as the next Dark Lord and has several followers.

Dumbledore, battling with him, kills Harry.

* * *

Fifteenth life, Harry is just to tired to care. He trudges through hallways, he doesn't pay attention to class, he doesn't read, he doesn't write, he makes it to detention an hour or half of one late, he doesn't do anything.

He somehow makes it to third year where he dies of a Dementor's Kiss, wondering how he lived that long.

* * *

On the thirtieth try, Harry is amiable to everybody. Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, Neville Longbottom, Hufflepuff, Hermione Granger, Ravenclaw, and Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor, consider themselves Harry's best friend.

Fake arguments and taunt matches between Harry and Draco are normal to see in the hallways. Seeing Ron dazed after losing chess to someone is always a good thing to see. Quirrell and the Sorceror's Stone... let's say that both are destroyed.

The second year and third year, without any Chamber of Secrets opening or Prisoner of Azkaban's escaping, leads to the most united Hogwarts had been for five hundred years. Harry was thought by some as the reincarnation of the Founders.

During Fourth Year, Harry successfully cancels the Tournament but is still sent to the graveyard in his happiest second chance yet. He dies at Voldemort's surprise green fire.

* * *

During the Forty-Second second chance, Harry attempts to divide Hogwarts beyond belief. The Hat yells, instead of Gryffindor, "GET HIM OFF ME!" and Dumbledore assumes it is Gryffindor. Harry sits at the Gryffindor table, telling tales of the evil Slytherins. They lap it up. An inter-house war begins, with Harry as leader of the Gryffindor side and Draco as leader of the Slytherin faction.

Through careful maneuvering, Gryffindor loses. During a "Final Battle" Harry is hit with multiple curses, charms, jinxes, and hexes from the Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and defected Gryffindors. Harry dies in third year.

* * *

For the fiftieth try, Harry flirts with everything that moves - teachers, cauldrons, dogs, cats, lizards, boys, girls, women, men, anything. The entire would thought he was nuts and by that time he had shared for kisses that made his mouth feel hairy then human.

He dies after accidentally flirting with a Dementor.

* * *

During the sixty-sixth try, Harry whips up Love Potions with random hair put in. Third year, the plan is put into action.

Harry is in love with Neville, who is in love with Malfoy, who is in love with McGonagall, who is in love with Flitwick, who is in love with Crookshanks the cat, who is in love with Sirius, who is in love with Remus, who is in love with Parkinson, who is in love with Bulstrode, who is in love with the Minister, who decided to visit one day and fell in love with Dumbledore, who was in love with Hedwig the owl, who was in love with Hermione, who was in love with a random camel Harry conjured, who is in love with Dobby, who is in love with Snape, who is in love with Harry. It's quite the love deca-triple-quadro-nonagle.

Harry dies after, in fourth year, making Voldemort fall in love with Bellatrix Lestrange, who was in love with a random chicken named Petty that Harry conjured.

* * *

He spends his seventieth life as a Necromancer. A spell blows up and he dies at thirteen, mauled to death by Inferius and various other monstrous creations.

* * *

In his eighty-fourth life, he sets fire to the Forbidden Forest as a Slytherin, corrupting all around him and cursing Gryffindors all the time.

The Minister sends him through the Veil.

* * *

In the ninety-ninth life, he is a Hufflepuff and doesn't speak to anyone for four years.

Until he is murdered by Voldemort.

* * *

Harry becomes a Ravenclaw for Number One Hundred and One and speaks to everyone, yet being so absentminded, when he's reading he doesn't look where he's going. He is always asking if he missed something.

Snape, on orders from Voldemort, poisons him while he asks if he missed something

* * *

During one hundred twelve he responds to any questions with Avada Kedavra. The Ministry attempts to arrest him. Harry escapes to the Chamber, cackling loudly while singing the Gingerbread Man.

Harry unleashes the basilisk to kill everyone.

The basilisk eventually gets fed up, angry, outraged, and finally, infuriated, and bites Harry while looking him in the eyes.

* * *

The one hundred and twentieth life Harry acted like Binns: droning and boring. He wears the most boring clothes, dies his hair boring, and does everything boring. Even Harry in the Dueling Club is boring.

Harry manages to bore Voldemort to death, amazingly, but then Dumbledore, having gone insane over Harry's boringness, kills Harry.

"Harry, you're boringness can not be allowed in this world any longer. I thank you for defeating Voldemort, but you're darker then him for being boring."

* * *

In the one hundred and thirty-fourth life Harry becomes the heir of Voldemort, making over fifty Horcruxes. Even Voldemort is frightened of Harry, who practices his glares, evil looks, and evil laughs in the mirror. Harry is uglier then Voldemort, without ears, nose, fingernails, toenails, and literally flat feet. They are, quite literally, as flat as a wall.

Harry wore the darkest clothes, making them blacker then Voldemort. Everyone of Harry's bones were visible. Harry could barely eat a biscuit without getting sick. Only a drop of water was safe for Harry to drink. Harry was the ugliest, most hideous, most powerful dark wizard to exist.

He still followed Voldemort. Voldemort eventually tried to destroy Harry's Horcruxes, but for every one Voldemort destroyed Harry had five more. Eventually, Harry died, at the age of twenty-two, trying to make his five hundredth Horcrux.

* * *

_For his one hundred forty through one hundred fifty-first life Harry stole the Sorceror's Stone and drank the Elixir of Life daily. _

_He lived for over a thousand years, becoming Headmaster of Hogwarts in 2221. In 4021, a passing star destroyed the Earth. Harry went down laughing, he died and so did everybody else._

But Harry woke up for his one hundred and thirty-fifth life, finding it was all a dream he had in a coma in his one hundred and thirty-fourth life. Who knew.

Harry was sick of second chances. This time, he let instinct take over. He lived exactly the same as his first life, before his second chances. But, in third year, his instincts failed him when he was mauled by Remus Lupin.

* * *

In his real one hundred fifty first life, he decided to arrange an accident for Ron in 1997 and gratefully, very reluctantly, accepted Hermione's feelings.

He died two years later, after fathering one son and twin girls.

* * *

In his two hundred and second life, he married Fleur Delacour.

He was killed from being slapped with steak too many times by Bill.

* * *

During his five hundredth life, he married Luna and had affairs with Fleur, Hermione, Susan Bones, and Narcissa Malfoy.

Minister Shacklebolt sentenced him to the Veil.

Harry went into it laughing madly.

* * *

Life 607:

Harry created files for each of his lives. He stored them in his mind, using Occlumency. This time he decided to play gay and married Draco Malfoy. Voldemort eventually killed him, and Harry, acting like a heart-broken estranged lover, went after Voldemort.

He died by Lucius Malfoy's pimp cane.

* * *

After approximately four thousand, one hundred twenty-three extra lives Harry just gave up. He wanted to die, he pleaded everyday. He gave up, he stopped fighting. He lived everything as he would've in his first life.

As he layed in his bed, Minister for Magic for the four hundred forty-fourth time, he stared at the clock on July 30th, pleading to die.

The clock striked twelve, signalling July 31st, Harry's eighty-eighth birthday. He suffered a heart attack and finally died.


	9. Journal of Severus Snape III: Respite

As Seen By

The Journal of Severus Snape III

I have been shoe shopping recently. You see, for a man of my incredible stature, I require the perfect shoes to complete the image of a nasty, sarcastic, witty, cruel, ruthless, heartless, soulless, nasty, robe-billowing bat-like greasy git.

Now, let me tell you about some of my previous attempts:

I was shoe shopping quite peacefully that day and bought the greatest bright yellow sneakers with even brighter yellow smiley faces. I changed the smiley faces to ones that frown in a depressed, miserable fashion.

After that, I arrogantly, insolently, and superiorly strutted (in the most non-horse-like of ways), showing off my sneakers. However, it appeared that when the brats saw them, they ran away and made strange hacking noises. It sounded like a mix between a cry of joy,, a cough, a snarl, and a hiss. I could've sworn the hacking noises were meant to express pleasure.

Now, I showed it to the staff at the table with a horrid, terrifying grin, and they, too, made the horrible hacking hurrahs! I asked, ever so rudely, why they were coughing in such a fashion.

There was more hacking! At me! And then Flitwick (excellent Charmscaster, him) informed me that it was called laughing and was used to express great amusement at something they find humorous, or a maniacal expression of terror.

Dumbledore, ruddy old bag, him, than told me that the depressingly yellow shoes were "just his style" and he wondered if he could "mayhaps vend some in the identical style thereforth" of my shoes "but mayhaps in a more bright, cheery, and appealing fashion". The apallingness!

As you can imagine, it made me strangely feel that taking my own life was appealing. So I promptly banished the shoes.

On another one, I decided to get some green dragonhide boots made of Welsh Green' hide. They remain, to this day, the most comfortable shoes I have ever worn. I decided not to flaunt them as obviously as before.

But they still created those noises known as "laughter"! If you could believe it! So I headed back to the shoe store and there I saw it. The blackest shoes to ever exist. Blacker than midnight, blacker than a panther, nastier than a wild hyena, crueller than Voldemort, wittier than my great-uncle, and more heartless than my father.

But I bought them anyway. I loved them. But before I put them on, I wondered how it would be to go about barefoot.

It turned out badly, as you can imagine, because it was the day after Christmas and there was a blizzard over Hogwarts. Dumbledore had called me to his office and told me something nonsensical regarding joy, happiness, and spirit, and I promptly turned and left in a billowy-frightening-imposing manner.

There was too much billow and not enough frightening. My paler than snow (but perfectly pedicured) feet were exposed more than Dumbledore's beard. The twinkly old bag yelled something completely off topic about dress code and shoes, while McGonagall made several gasps.

I thought she was dieing a few times. But than, I had a Moment of Dawning Realization: She was only expressing shock. _How dare she express shock in so ambiguous a manner?!_ I thought to myself, journal.

I than picked up some Floo, through it at Dumbledore's phoenix's ash's tray and flooed away to my office.

Oh? You wonder how I could do that?

Well, phoenix ashes on a tray can perform the same purpose as a fire place. This was back when Dumblediddlydore had the really-really-big ash tray that was nearly as large as my Closet of Unending Space. Almost. It wasn't as "unending".

I immediately put on my new shoes.

And so those shoes had faithfully served my feet through blistering heat, fifty-degrees-below blizzards, swims in the Squid Lake, encounters with Hagrid, and Potion-brewing.

UNTIL YESTERDAY.

A peculiar Potion splashed on my shoes. However, I did not notice the affects until.. the S.H.O.E. Debate. A monthly event between the staff of Hogwarts in which they debate on each others shoes. I found it stupid. I only went because Albus gave me a 15% raise.

Albus noticed the affects on my shoes: They were rapidly deteriorating. I let out one of the Famous Manly Screams and ran away. In a billowy-imposing way.

I Flooed to the store that sold me the shoes.

The shoes were out of stock.

I begged the store owner to manufacture one more pair. I paid him ten galleons, fifty-three sickles, and nine hundred twenty-two Knuts. Not a bad price at all.

I donned the new shoes quite fast. I still feel the lovely warmth of the shoes, encompassing my feet with their delicious cruelty...

* * *

Here's another thing I hate: Spring.

Bright sunshine, singing birds, blooming flowers, the epitome of joy and happiness.

That's why I hate it!

All of the dratted joy. Every year the first years think that Spring will make me a _chummy_ sort of person and even, Merlin forbid, make me a _pleasant_ person. You see, all Snapes since the beginning of history have been unpleasant. We take great pleasure in our failure to be kind.

So I respond by unleashing what I call the True Cruel. (Very catchy, isn't it?) I become the nastiest person on Earth... some accuse me of being racist. Imagine! I have nothing against Silinists, or Viribewnies, or Magpies, or Lorisians. And yet they accuse me of racism!

But oh no, I am not racist. I hold all persons, no matter their ethnicity, color, gender, religion, or any of that hobbo-hooblooey, I hold all persons in equal contempt and hatred. They are all equally worthless to me.

All equally incompetent, blubbering masses of animated flesh, blood, and bone, incapable of comprehending any modicum of intelligent knowledge, incapable of performing the slightest task, no matter the simplicity.

* * *

"Severus, I need to talk to you about the Mirror of Erised."

"I thought it was pronounced Mirror of Erised."

"Oh no no no, it has always been Mirror of Erised."

"Well, I'd prefer if you said it as Mirror of Erised in my presence."

"Fiiiiine. Anyway, I need to talk to you about the Mirror of Erised."

"Well, you're certainly taking your time about it, aren't you, Albus?"

"We need to move the Mirror of Erised down to protect the you-know-what from you-know-who."

"Headmaster, that means we will have to traipse through several heavily-fortified virtually-impenetrable defenses, all oddly enough answerable with things taught in first year, while carrying an approximately two thousand and one pound magical mirror?"

"That's why I'm asking you for you're help."

"No."

"You think of this now? In December?"

"No, I've planned it since June."

"And the Mirror arrived now?"

"Oh no, it has been here since May last year, present from an old friend, you know."

"And you put it where?"

"Oh, just an unprotected unlocked abandoned classroom accessible only through the Restricted Section of the library, completely unprotected..."

"And you decided we have to move it now, when it's virtually impossible to do so?"

"I could use your help sometime in January to do it, the Mirror really should have some more time in that completely unprotected classroom..."

That is the record of a conversation I had with Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

Around February, I was just strolling around in a hateful sort of fashion when Quirrell walked up, listening to my anguished, agreived, miserable mutterings and puzzling prattlings.

"S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-severus, w-w-w-w-why are y-y-y-y-you m-m-m-mut-t-t-t-ter-r-r-r-ing in s-s-s-such a f-f-f-fashion?" He asked me.

I turned to him and said quite severely, angrily, and dignifiedly: "Life is full of mysterious questions, Quirrel. For example, why do you wear that monstrous turban of abomination upon your much-disgusted head?"

I left him just as he became a blubbering mess.

* * *

**After nearly seven months, I have a new oneshot! It's another Journal of Severus Snape!**


End file.
